


Take Me Over

by dvaonliine (digitalskyline)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalskyline/pseuds/dvaonliine
Summary: Hana visits Angela in Switzerland. // Written for HanaMercy Week 2k17 Day 2: Domestic Fluff





	Take Me Over

**Author's Note:**

> The list of prompts for [#hanamercyweek](https://hanamercy.tumblr.com/tagged/hanamercyweek) can be found [here](https://hanamercy.tumblr.com/post/164077597316/welcome-to-hanamercy-week-2017-dedicated-to)

 

It’s cold outside. Snow falls in light flurries that stick to their clothes and onto the ground, crunching beneath their boots. Hana wrinkles her nose, trying to stop yet another sneeze. She pulls up her scarf and hunches her shoulders against a biting gust of wind that turns her hair into a tangled mess.

Angela chuckles, light and airy, and Hana scoots closer, enough that their arms brush as they walk, in contented silence, side by side.

Their mittened hands are clasped together as they stumble through the slush-covered path on stiff legs and frozen feet.

They’ve been out since early morning, wandering around the city, sight-seeing.  _Zürich_  is beautiful, full of curved avenues and winding alleys. In some places, it’s almost like a maze. This city is unlike anything Hana has seen before and she lost count of how often she tipped her head back to be able to gawk openly at her surroundings. Everything here seems old, but charmingly so, like something out of those old movies.

Hana can’t help but think that Switzerland really is such a perfect fit for someone like Angela.

She looks down at their joined hands and gives them a happy squeeze. She hopes Angela can feel it, though it’s kind of hard to tell with these stupid mittens that don’t go with her outfit  _at all_  but Hana loves them anyway.

She’s smiling as she glances over at Angela, and when their eyes meet, Angela smiles at her, too—the kind of smile that Hana loves best. Because it’s easy and instinctive and it happens every time Angela looks at her.  _It’s beautiful._

The winter sun makes the world seem emptier somehow, casting everything in a pale, withering glow that washes over the blue of Angela’s eyes and makes them look lighter than before. Like this, it’s almost as if they are the only two people left to walk on Earth. And maybe, in a dream, that wouldn’t be such a selfish thing to wish for.

Hana turns to look straight ahead. She can see Angela’s house and beyond that, over the tops of the trees, she can see the snow-capped mountains.  _The Swiss Alps_ , Hana reminds herself. They have plans to go skiing there tomorrow morning and it would be a first for her!

 

When they reach the front step of the house, Angela lets go of her hand with a gentle kiss on the cheek that makes Hana forget all about the cold for a moment. But then it catches up to her. Of course it does.  _It’s freezing out here, goddammit!_ The cold, crisp air chills her to the bones even though she’s wearing plenty of layers, mind you—two shirts underneath one of Angela’s woolen sweaters and black jeans pulled on over a cozy pair of leggings. Hana rubs her mittened hands together, blowing warm air onto them. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, impatiently, until Angela _finally_  opens that stupid door. “You might want to watch your step there, it’s—”

_Fuck._

Too late. The next thing Hana knows, she’s slipping on the snowed-on porch and scrambling to latch onto Angela. The epitome of grace herself.

Angela shoots out an arm to steady her, holds her close. She tilts her head just a little, lifts an eyebrow. “Didn’t I just tell you to be careful there?” Her tone is nearly chastising, but mostly just amused. It’s a habit of Angela’s that Hana finds both endearing and slightly annoying at times, this instinct of  _mothering_  people. It’s rooted in genuine concern and good intentions, Hana knows, so she doesn’t take offence. Not really.

“Oh well.” Hana shrugs, her gaze falling to where her hands are sliding up Angela’s arms to swat at the snow around her shoulders. She grabs the front of Angela’ coat and gives it a little tug, then a pat. “I knew you’d catch me,” she breathes in an overly dramatic tone, looking up at Angela from underneath her fluttering eyelashes.

Angela huffs a laugh, her breath white in the air, her hair still a bit tangled from the harsh wind. When she blinks, Hana can see melting snowflakes caught on her eyelashes. It’s really unfairly ridiculous how  _pretty_ Angela is. Sometimes, Hana thinks she’s used to it, then other times, it’s like looking at Angela anew. Hana is starting to wonder just how many times a day can you fall in love with the same person?  _Is she going crazy?_

Maybe.

Hana gets up on her tip toes and sweeps Angela in for a kiss—but then a sneeze decides to get in the way of what could’ve been the start of a delicious make-out session.  _아! 씨발!!_  Hana curses under her breath and swipes the back of her mitten across her nose.

“Bless you,” Angela giggles as she leans in to peck a quick comforting kiss on the flushed tip of Hana’s nose. Then she lets out a long contemplative hum. “A hat might’ve been a good idea, don’t you think?”

“No shit.” Hana holds her hands up. “You’re the one who knitted us matching pair of mittens and no hats.”

“Fair enough,” Angela concedes with another chuckle. She trails her arms up and down Hana’s arms, in a soothing motion. “Come on then. I’ll make sure to warm you up.” She winks and Hana perks up at the idea.

As soon as she steps inside the house, Hana is eagerly kicking off her shoes and shrugging out of her jacket.

She throws her scarf onto an armchair and follows the sounds of Angela’s bare feet all the way into the living room.

She watches Angela kneel on the stone floor by the fireplace and make sparks flicker to life.

Hana is still shivering even though the room has already warmed up a bit. Angela, however, seems blissfully unaffected as she stands there, gazing at the glowing hearth. She adds another log to the fire, sending out crackling sparks. She looks perfectly fine in nothing but tight jeans and a soft grey sweater baring her pale throat and collarbones. Hana licks her lips and swallows hard.  _Since when are necklines so arousing?!_

“You know,” Hana says, clearing her throat. Her eyes trail down Angela’s form and back up with a playful glint. She cocks a brow, hand on her hip. “When you said you’d warm me up,  _this_  isn’t what I had in mind.”

And alright,  _yeah_ , maybe that would’ve sounded more seductive if her teeth weren’t chattering like crazy.

_Dammit._

Angela stands up, pats the dust off her jeans, and pretends to ignore the meaning of Hana’s words.

“I will make us some hot chocolate,” she offers with a smile. “How about that?”

Hana tries to protest with a pout but she can’t help but grin even as she stubbornly folds her arms. “Fine.”

Angela crosses the room in longs strides, nudging up the thermostat as she goes. Hana starts pacing back and forth over the warmth of the fire. She trails her hand along the mantelshelf, running her fingers over some of the framed photos Angela has there. She listens to the lights flick on in the kitchen, the sounds of Angela’s feet shuffling about. Hana can’t stay still for too long so she decides to follow her.

In the kitchen, Angela turns off the stove and stirs a small pot of heated milk before turning around to find a pair of mugs.

Hana scrapes back a chair and sits down at the table. She rests her chin in her hand and watches.

There’s something so deliberate in the way Angela moves around, navigating cabinets and drawers with ease. _It makes sense,_  Hana thinks. This is the house she grew up in, after all. This  _is_ her home, isn’t it? Maybe someday they'll have a place they can call their own. A girl can dream, right?

Angela pulls a canister of cocoa from a cupboard, then she pours steaming hot milk into the two identical mugs. It’s kind of cute, Hana thinks, how Angela still enjoys doing these things in the old-fashioned way. Angela sprinkles tiny marshmallows on top of the whipped cream, and Hana bites her lip around a fond smile. When the smell of chocolate fills the kitchen, sweet and warm, she closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply.

Angela sets the mug in front of her and Hana pulls it closer, letting it warm her fingers before taking a sip.

Her eyes widen in surprise when the rich taste of Swiss chocolate floods her mouth. “Holy shit!” Hana licks her lips and takes another sip. “This is amazing!!” She beams up at Angela, and Angela chuckles at her reaction, wiping some whipped cream from Hana’s upper lip then licking her thumb.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Hana grins as she dips a finger in the loop of Angela’s jeans to make her bend a little.

Angela gives her a peck on the lips, soft and chaste and sweet, and Hana’s eyes flutter shut as she presses forward and lingers against Angela’s mouth, making the kiss last for as long as she wants. Angela cups Hana’s face in her hands and draws her closer, thumbs stroking along her cheeks in time with the movement of their lips. The angle is a bit awkward since Hana is still sitting in her chair and Angela is standing up, but the kiss is perfect nonetheless, and they are both out of breath the moment they finally pull apart. They exchange a dazed look and then Hana is eagerly leaning in for another kiss, but Angela puts a finger to her lips. “Our drinks are getting cold.”

Hana scoffs, still close enough that the tip of her nose brushes Angela’s. She gives a nod and lets Angela go with one last peck on the cheek.

She leans back, watching Angela take the seat across from her. She smiles then looks down at her mug and takes it back into her hands.

Alright, so maybe this cream isn’t the only one  _whipped_ around here.

Hana keeps smiling as she glances out the window. The sun is low on the horizon, the sky slowly fading to gray. The snow falls thickly and steadily, blanketing the world in pure white, and Hana watches quietly for a few minutes, her thoughts wiped clean by the weather. The clock on the wall ticks on and they settle into a comfortable silence. Across the table, Angela sits with the mug clasped between her hands, the sleeves of her sweater rolled up over her elbows. She circles the rim of her mug with one finger, and Hana watches the motion, mesmerized.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm?” Hana’s eyes flicker back up to meet Angela’s amused expression. Hana gives a casual shrug, picks up her mug and takes a sip. “I like it here. A lot. I wish we could stay longer, I wish we could just, like… forget about everything else and stay here. Just the two of us. For a long,  _long_  time.” She is aware of how embarrassingly earnest that sounded as it came out, but she can’t bring herself to regret it because the instant the words slip free, Angela smiles—that honest to god smile that makes Hana’s heart skip a beat.

“I’d like that too,” Angela admits, smiling even as she lifts the mug to her lips.

Hana grins, gulps down what’s left of her drink, then stands up.

 

She kisses Angela again when they’re cleaning their mugs. Angela presses her up against the counter and kisses her back, long and deep and slow. It makes Hana go weak at the knees. When she squirms down off the counter, she grabs Angela’s hand and tugs her towards the living room.

 

Angela goes to add more wood to the fire while Hana plops down onto the couch with a dramatic yawn. She stretches her arms up and over the back, letting her sweater ride up a few inches above her waist. It doesn’t take long for goose bumps to start crawling up her skin and Hana can already feel herself beginning to shiver again. “Are you still cold?” Angela asks, glancing over her shoulder as she stirs the flames.

Hana shakes her head stubbornly. “Nah, I’ll be fine,” she says. “I have  _you_ , don’t I?” She pats the cushion beside her invitingly and Angela obliges with a warm smile. She joins Hana on the sofa, wrapping her arms snuggly around her smaller frame. Hana sighs contently as she nestles deeper into that embrace, her back pressed up against Angela’s chest, head tucked under Angela’s chin, their legs tangled together at the ankles.

It’s warm and cozy in the room now.

Angela breathes evenly behind her.

The flames curl and sway, crackling as they burn the dry wood; a homely background noise to the late evening quiet of the house.

It’s all good – perfect, really – until Hana feels Angela’s  _icy_   _cold_  fingers brush against the bare skin of her neck. Hana twitches and squeaks in surprise, feeling a shiver go up her spine. She shoots Angela a glare over her shoulder, and Angela laughs, smothering her giggles in Hana’s hair then pressing a tender kiss to her temple.

“Relax,” she coaxes as she rests her palms on Hana’s tense shoulders. She starts to knead and Hana eases back into her touch immediately, gratitude clear in every bit of her body language. Angela’s hands are definitely a godsend, smoothing down her back and making all the tension melt away. She digs her thumbs just under Hana’s shoulder blades and Hana gives a soft moan of approval. Angela chuckles quietly, “That good?”

“Perfect.” Hana keeps nodding slowly, with a dopey grin on her face and her eyes closed in pure bliss.

Until she feels Angela’s hands slide down her sides, sneaking underneath Hana’s sweater; fingers long and cold, slipping through layers of clothing until they find a strip of bare skin just above the waistline of her jeans— Hana gasps and yelps. “Angela, what the fuck!” She playfully slaps at Angela’s hands but when she _doesn’t_  stop, Hana turns around in haste. She changes her position so that she’s now on top of Angela, straddling her hips and holding her wrists captive over the arm of the couch. Hana frowns down at her, demanding obedience, but Angela looks up at her all innocent, parted lips and fluttering eyelashes, as if she isn’t completely aware of herself. Hana sneers, “Oh yeah? You wanna go?”

But Angela is stronger than she looks and in a matter of seconds Hana finds herself to be the one pinned down instead.

Her head brushes against the other arm of the couch, and Angela is looking down at her now, brow lifted in a challenge. Her eyes are intent, and in them Hana can see the flames cackling orange and red.

Hana inhales sharply when Angela presses a lingering kiss against the side of her neck, then lets out a long, soft hum that tickles at Hana’s ear. “It looks like your  _base_  is under attack,” Angela chuckles lightly when Hana begins to squirm, helplessly and desperately wriggling beneath Angela’s weight in a futile attempt to get away. It only serves to make Angela burst into a fit of giggles as she starts pressing kisses all over Hana’s face.

They end up in a tickle fight that has them skidding into a graceless, sprawling heap of limbs onto the carpet.

Hana finds herself on top once more, as Angela lets her head thump against the floor, her whole body deflating in exhaustion. 

_Ha! Get rekt, Angela!_

 

“Wait a sec,” Hana huffs, after every trace of laughter has finally subsided. Her mouth curves into a triumphant smile as she pushes herself up, enough to look Angela in the eyes. “Did you just make a  _Starcraft_ reference?”

Angela smiles, almost shyly. “I may have watched some of your old streams while you were gone…”

Hana’s brows shot up in surprise. “You did?!”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Angela chuckles, but then she’s suddenly serious when she says, “I always miss you when you’re gone.”

The light from the fire spills across the carpet, casting long shadows in its wake. Hana’s eyes take a moment to ghost over Angela’s face, from the shine in her blue eyes, to her flushed cheeks and her parted lips. Hana feels a ridiculously sappy grin form on her face but she couldn’t care less about making a fool out of herself, not when warmth blossoms in her chest. She breathes, nodding, and presses forward to kiss Angela again.

“Me too,” she says, smiling against Angela’s lips. The kiss is tender at first. They meet halfway in every brush of lips and then the first tentative slip of tongue against tongue. Their breath wafts over one another in soft pants when they pull apart. Angela lets her fingers linger against Hana’s cheek and it’s enough to make Hana’s eyes flutter shut for a moment. They lay there, tangled together, cozy by the flame.

 

“Hmm, about that video game of yours… You’ll have to explain some things to me…”

 

Hana opens her eyes and grins. “Oh yeah? Like what?” But she doesn’t wait for an answer before she grabs Angela’s wrist to bring one slender finger to her lips, playfully caressing it with her tongue in teasing flicks.

“Maybe take it from the beginning?” Angela giggles as she takes her hand away. “Start with the basics?”

Hana runs her eyes across the soft line of Angela’s collarbones and she can practically feel her gaze darkening.

Her mouth twists into a smirk. “Well, first of all,” she says, moving close so that their faces are only inches apart. “You have to  _mine your resources_...” Her hands tangle in Angela’s hair, twirling one strand around her finger. She eases in, just barely brushing her lips over Angela’s. Their breath is warm between them and it only adds to the tension budding in the air. “Spend them as effectively as you can…” Hana kisses her then, long and slow and deep. “That’s called  _macro_ -management,” she whispers, brushing her lips against Angela’s ear and loving the way she shivers.

One hand clenching down on the back of Hana’s sweater, Angela chuckles breathlessly, “Sounds sexy.”

Hana snorts, the sound muffled against Angela’s shoulder. She rolls her eyes. “Anyway. So.” She moves her head to press a damp kiss just above the collar of Angela’s sweater. “You expand your bases…” Angela cranes her neck to give Hana more access, and Hana rewards her by kissing a sensitive spot on the side of her neck. She moves her lips a little lower, lightly dragging them across Angela’s skin and pleased at the stifled moan she feels humming in her throat. “You build  _units_  and a  _command center_ …” Another lingering kiss pressed just above her collarbone.

Another lick to the very same spot; wet, hot, and deliberate. Hana is tempted to suck a bruise.

So she does.

Angela doesn’t shrug her off, only moans as Hana tugs at the collar of her sweater to expose more skin.

She slides a gentle finger along the small slash of a scar Angela’s has on her left shoulder. A malfunction of her wings, Hana recalls. It’s not the only one. There are a few more. Hana knows because she’s spent more hours than she cares to count hunting down every little scar, mark and blemish on Angela’s body, asking for the story of each. Some are relics of childhood antics, some from the battlefield.

Every single one of them beautiful.

Hana circles the old injury with her fingers then kisses it.

“And then, you’ll want to send a worker to go  _scouting_ …” Her hands start inching up the hem of Angela’s sweater, reaching for the lacy bra underneath. Angela takes in a deep breath and that’s about as much indication as Hana’s going to get that she is still listening. “Explore the map, uncover the parts that are hidden…” Hana slides down and begins to kiss her way up Angela’s stomach, revealing more and more skin as she goes. She licks a stripe over a particularly ticklish spot just above Angela’s hipbone and her lips curl into a satisfied smile at the gasping sigh and jerk of hips she receives. “Find out where the opponent’s bases are located, what they are building…”

Angela fails to suppress a moan when Hana closes one hand over her breast, squeezing gently for one teasing moment before swiping her thumb over a hardening nipple that strains through the thin material of her bra. “You can go for a  _poke_ … a  _light attack_  to test your opponent’s defenses…” Hana can feel the way Angela’s stomach dips beneath her fingertips as she trails them down. She can feel Angela breathing, the soft inhale and exhale that deepens when Hana lets her fingertips reach the hem of her jeans. “You should exploit any  _temporary advantage_  you have…”

Hana goes back up to kissing Angela's neck, teasing more whimpers and impatient moans out of her.

“And then… when the timing is  _just right_ , you’ll conduct a bigger attack and seek to destroy a much more crucial base…”

Her hand finds itself in-between Angela’s legs, touching her briefly through her pants.

Angela gasps, arching her back, thighs spreading the tiniest bit in anticipation. She whines, “ _Hana._ ”

Her voice is weak with want, breath shallow, her stomach rising and falling rapidly.

Her body is obviously aching for Hana’s touch.

 

“Aaaaand that’s it.” Hana stops suddenly and giggles. “ ** _GG!_** ” She throws up a victory sign.

She snorts a laugh when the heat in Angela’s eyes swiftly turns into an adorably confused frown. She looks like she’s doing hardcore math equations in her mind before she props herself up on her elbows. “What do you mean that’s it?”

Angela’s voice comes out hoarse and she flushes even more upon hearing herself. She clears her throat.

Hana shrugs as she repeats, “That’s it.”

But the shit-eating smirk on her face gets immediately wiped off when Angela takes her by surprise and maneuvers her so that she’s the one straddling Hana’s hips now, pinning her wrists up above her head. “I don’t think so,” Angela hums, shaking her head. “A Starcraft match should be at least a  _BO3_.”

Hana gasps. “Wait, you knew the basics all along?!”  _What the fuck! Did **she**  just get trolled?!_

“You should know by now that I  _always_ do my research,” Angela murmurs, rubbing her thumbs across Hana’s wrists. Her grip is tight and Hana has no escape route.  _She's fucked._  Or, well, about to be fucked. “Now, let me show you what I have learnt.”

Hana scoffs. She’s kind of proud of Angela right now—kind of  _a lot_. “Fine. Let’s make it a  _BO5_ then.”

“Deal.”


End file.
